


can't get off, can't get over

by girltalk



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Childhood Friends, Friends With Benefits, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Misunderstandings, Non-Explicit Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2018-12-31 14:42:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12134679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girltalk/pseuds/girltalk
Summary: “You know, Soonyoung is pretty cool. He doesn’t look like someone who’d be bad at sex.” Mingyu pauses, contemplative. “Then again, Seokmin doesn’t look like someone who’d be a horndog."





	can't get off, can't get over

**Author's Note:**

  * For [delight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/delight/gifts).



> dear delight, i used [this](https://pbs-h1.twimg.com/media/C75c6y6VQAAc_pO.jpg) [prompt](https://pbs-h1.twimg.com/media/C75c7TvUwAErHxS.jpg) for your fic, but as will soon be obvious, the final result ended up straying a little bit... nonetheless, i hope this brings even a little smile to your face! to the mod, thank you endlessly for your saintlike patience and kindness as i became the worst participant in this exchange ♥️
> 
> thanks a dozen to [rei](http://archiveofourown.org/users/concordances) for always being the best beta, and to [nisa](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nisakomi), for cheerleading and letting me cheat off her svt meta~
> 
>  [♡](https://youtu.be/Bxf9ZPuP2d0)

There are a few things to be said here.

Firstly, Seokmin is _not_ a coward. He’s just waiting for the right time. And with Soonyoung, there never seems to be one. He’s almost always busy, with remedial classes, basketball practice, student council duties (how he’s the treasurer when his Maths grades are as bad as Seokmin’s, no one knows). Then, when they do get time together, Soonyoung’s out here running his mouth with stuff like, _“God, I’ve wanted to do this for such a long time Seoku.”_ And he always says it with such tender, sweet inflection on _Seoku_ , that even in the janitor’s closet with Soonyoung’s fingers making quick work of Seokmin’s pants, Seokmin just can’t find within himself the cynicism to argue.

Secondly, and currently the most pressing issue, Soonyoung’s blow job technique is, well...lacking, to say the least. It had never occurred to Seokmin that there was any bad way for a mouth and penis to communicate, but goddamn, Soonyoung’s teeth are scraping against Seokmin’s skin like he’s trying to clean the burnt bits off the bottom of a baking tin. 

Soonyoung pulls off Seokmin’s dick with a _pop_ , and stares up at him with a smile that raises his cheeks so high, that he looks like too many pure and adorable things that shouldn’t ever be associated with someone who has Seokmin’s precum smeared all over over their lips. 

“That feel good?” Soonyoung asks, voice low and raspy.

Seokmin’s dick is sore, his arms are also sore from holding himself up in the cramped space, and his tongue quivers, like it’d rather shrivel up and die than say the words Seokmin knows he should say. 

“Yeah.” Seokmin swallows, braces himself and gives Soonyoung a full-toothed smile. “It feels so good.”

 

 

Thirdly—

Alright, maybe Seokmin is a bit of a coward. 

 

 

“He’s using you, man,” Mingyu says, pointing at Seokmin with a celery stick. He flips it towards his mouth and bites into it with a crunch. Seokmin winces and clenches his legs together, a Pavlovian response. “You gotta end it. I’m telling you, that entire group is no good and shouldn’t be trusted.”

“We get it, you hate Wonwoo,” Minghao says, disinterested as he peels the cling wrap off his sandwich. “But really, Seokmin. What’s the point of having a friends with benefits relationship if you’re barely friends, and the benefits suck?”

“We are friends,” Seokmin whines. Maybe it’s not like before, the way it used to be in middle school. Back then they had their own handshake, and were so inseparable that if one of them was put in detention, the other would voluntarily attend just to keep company. But they’ve been getting better this year. Even though it’s Soonyoung’s final year of high school, and genitals have somehow gotten involved. “And it’s not all bad. He’s a good kisser. I like sucking him, when he lets me. His face when he comes is hot, I—”

“Oh, ewwww!” Mingyu cries. At the same time, Minghao drops his sandwich on the table and deadpans: “I’ve lost my appetite.” 

“What is wrong with you, Seokmin?” Mingyu asks. “Is this a HBO show? We’re in the middle of the cafeteria, you vulgar freak.”

“Sorry,” Seokmin mumbles, blushing. He stares into the space between Mingyu and Minghao, where he can spot Soonyoung sitting two tables behind them with his usual posse. Soonyoung’s turned towards him, drawn by Mingyu’s five thousand decibel scream that had almost made a passing frosh drop her lunch tray. Soonyoung juts his chin up and lifts both hands, gesturing _’What’s wrong?’_

 _’It’s nothing’_ , Seokmin mouths back. Mingyu catches note of this, and twists his neck to follow Seokmin’s line of vision. Soonyoung waves at Mingyu. Mingyu waves back, and then points towards Wonwoo sitting next to Soonyoung. Soonyoung taps Wonwoo on the shoulder, whispering something into his ear. Wonwoo turns around. Mingyu flips him the bird. 

Seokmin can hear Soonyoung’s laugh; it rings and hovers above the usual noise pollution of the cafeteria, and settles over Seokmin’s head like a halo. Mingyu redirects his attention back to their table, the interaction seemingly satiating him. “You know, Soonyoung is pretty cool. He doesn’t look like someone who’d be bad at sex.” He pauses, contemplative. “Then again, Seokmin doesn’t look like someone who’d be a horndog. I shouldn’t stereotype people, it’s harmful.”

Minghao snorts. “I love it when you talk ethics.”

 

 

Seokmin knows Mingyu is right. He’d known he was right since the first hand job Soonyoung ever gave him, backs against the headboard of Seokmin’s bed, and three weeks worth of hard work in front of them in the form of a biology assignment. The result had been a hand cramp for Soonyoung, and Seokmin accidentally ejaculating all over their diorama of a smoker’s lung, semen mixing in with the still drying glue. They’d gotten a big, fat, D. Seokmin wanted to cry. 

Mingyu, for all of Minghao’s rants that he must be a government sanctioned bioweapon whose breath contains toxins that lowers the IQ of anyone he talks to, because there’s no way—no _fucking_ way—Mingyu’s existence makes sense otherwise, had gotten an A. It would’ve meant straight As for him, had Mingyu not had the bad fortune of pairing up with Wonwoo Jeon for Home Economics last term. Wonwoo self-admittedly had only taken the class for an easy grade, but had two left hands and kept turning Mingyu’s Masterchef Level dishes into Cs, and intricate sewing projects into trips to the nurse's office. 

But, blemishes on his report card aside, Mingyu is smart. This in combination with his sociability, boyish good looks, and the constant praise heaped onto him for those exact reasons since he was young, have made him grow up into a mild narcissist. Regardless, he's a good friend; supportive, and occasionally when he looks away from the mirror, uncannily observant. He'd stolen his sister's lube for Seokmin, but using the good ten centimetres he had on the average seventeen year old male, held it up in the air when Seokmin tried to make a grab for it.

"I'm doing this not because I support your behaviour," he warned. "But because I'm raising awareness for dick chafing. You gotta end it Seokmin, you're not having fun." Then, before he could properly bestow the lube onto Seokmin, the bottle had been plucked out of his hands by the supervising teacher. They'd both gotten detention. Not for the lube, but for loitering in the halls. 

Seokmin’s relying on a music scholarship to get him into University, but he isn’t hopeless. It’s always on the tip of his tongue, _’Maybe we should stop doing this.’_ It’s something to think about, so he isn’t too hyperfocused on how Soonyoung tends to squeeze a bit too much, or a bit too little; a bit too hard, or a bit too soft. In the end, Seokmin usually ends up knocking Soonyoung’s hand—or recently, his mouth—away, gently, and finishes off both of them under the guise of _’returning the favour’_. 

He’s not hopeless. But every time Soonyoung kisses him, their teeth clacking against each other; wraps his arm around Seokmin, tactile like he hasn’t been since they were thirteen; and smiles into Seokmin’s collar, murmuring, “This was fun.” Well. 

It makes Seokmin a little dumb.

 

 

Only a select few are privy to the full emotional ramifications these constant liaisons with Soonyoung have on Seokmin. This elite inner circle consists of: Mingyu, Minghao; Seokmin’s ninth grade math’s teacher, Mrs. Park; the janitor who’d found Seokmin crying in the boys bathroom with a face full of stage makeup; and Seokmin’s favourite upperclassman, Jeonghan Yoon. Jeonghan had graduated last year and was currently attending University half-way across the country, but that didn’t stop him from sharing his strongly worded opinions on the matter. 

**14:03 jeonghan ♥♥♥**  
_> ur too young to be living out a harlequin novel_  
_> watch some teletubbies, kick a ball around outside ykno. like u have the rest of ur lyf to be making bad decisions over some mediocre boy_  
_> LMFAO cheol read that over my shoulder and stormed out of the room_

 **14:07 seokmin ♥♥♥**  
_> i’m trying to end it but it’s hard!!!_  
_> he actually smiles at me in the hallways now ):_  
_> also he isnt a bad kisser the kisses are VERY NICE_

“Who’re you talking to?”

Seokmin jumps. His fingers splay outwards like they’ve been electrocuted, phone landing on the desk with a hard bang. “Shit. You scared me,” he breathes, a hand on his chest. 

Soonyoung raises an eyebrow. “Your phone gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. If this phone case could withstand the Hailstorm, it can survive anything y’know?” Seokmin does a quick scan of the classroom. Their supervising teacher is out, and everyone spends study hall fucking around anyway. Minus a disgruntled Junhwe from the desk adjacent to him, who’d grumbled a curse word at Seokmin after being woken up from his nap, no one seems to care about Soonyoung’s presence. Still, “What’re you doing here?”

“I need Mrs. Cho to sign off on this so I can skip her class for Basketball practice,” Soonyoung says, brandishing a paper slip. “I'm failing Chemistry.”

Seokmin perks up. “Oh, sweet, me too!”

“Anyway, who were you talking to? Your face was all,” Soonyoung pushes his bottom lip out and frowns, looking like a cartoon frog, “Sulky. Also, what the fuck? This town had a Hailstorm?”

Seokmin scratches his cheek, feeling his face warm up. “Ah, no I was texting Jeonghan. Also, Hailstorm is Mingyu’s dogs name.”

The corner of Soonyoung’s lip pulls down ever so slightly. “Jeonghan, wow, I haven't heard from him since graduation.” He laughs, but it sounds nervous and artificial. Seokmin’s stomach clenches. Had he said something wrong? “I always felt like he didn’t like me. But Hailstorm, that’s cute.”

Both ideas are astounding to Seokmin. For one, and it pains Seokmin to say this about any dog, Hailstorm wasn’t cute. He was a ferocious beast that almost tried to maul Seokmin’s leg off. But mostly, the fact anyone could dislike Soonyoung just wasn’t something Seokmin could comprehend. Hell, Seokmin had made it a mission to try and hate Soonyoung once he'd started high school and the awkward eye contact in the halls became too much to bear. _”Hate is easier to tolerate than apathy,”_ Minghao had claimed. But, even after filling up the back of two maths problem sheets with all the wrongs Soonyoung had ever committed against him in his life, hating Soonyoung felt like it went against the fabric of Seokmin's entire being. It went against the curriculum too, and their Maths teacher, Mrs. Park, had returned the worksheet with an F circled in red and an underlined “SEE ME”. 

This is all possibly too much to say out loud. “Jeonghan’s own boyfriend doesn’t think Jeonghan likes him,” Seokmin tries. Soonyoung scoffs. He doesn’t look the least bit convinced, but he seems relieved. “It’s okay!” Seokmin chimes, unable to stop himself, “I like you enough for everyone.”

Soonyoung opens his mouth. “I—”

“Soonyoung! Do you have a good reason for skipping class?”

“Ah! Mrs. Cho, I’ve got the best reason you’re gonna hear all year.” Soonyoung shoots Seokmin an apologetic look and skips to the front of the class, where Mrs. Cho stands waiting with a weariness that only comes from experience. Seokmin’s phone vibrates, and Seokmin quickly hides it under his desk. When he’s sure Mrs. Cho isn’t looking, he takes a peek:

 **14:19 jeonghan ♥♥♥**  
_> i keep saying this but ur way too nice for ur own good_  
_> if only soonyoung was as good as sucking d*ck as he is at sucking soul_

 

 

 

It’s strange. Before this year, Soonyoung had been a figure shrouded by the past, something Seokmin would keep in a box for storage, next to his old Yu-Gi-Oh cards and VCR home movies. But, to the people who still remembered Seokmin as the kid who was dared into eating his homeroom goldfish in seventh grade, Soonyoung was a permanent imprint on his existence. A basic fact about him, as easy an association as Seokmin’s last name. 

Take music camp, two weeks before the current school term had started. Jaehyun had leaned over Seokmin’s naked chest to plug his phone into the charger. He’d stayed like that for a while, scrolling through his Facebook newsfeed, his body like a blanket over Seokmin, warm and sticky as the summer that had befallen them. “Hey,” he’d said, as he pulled back and his head hit the pillow with a soft thud. “Not to be nosy, but do you know if Yuju and Soonyoung are back together again?”

Seokmin blinked in surprise. “Oh no, I haven’t talked to Soonyoung in months. I didn’t even know he was dating Yuju.” 

“Really?” Jaehyun intoned. “Hmm. You guys used to be best friends.”

They did use to be best friends, and the fourteen year old Soonyoung that had taken up permanent residence in Seokmin’s attic would probably hi-five Seokmin for managing to lay Jaehyun Jung, his crush of six years. It was weird, Seokmin was no longer a virgin as of ten minutes ago, but it was only then, thinking of Soonyoung while lying next to Jaehyun on a single bed in a wooden cabin, that Seokmin had felt like he’d really lost something. 

“Oh, by the way,” Jaehyun had tacked on after a few minutes of thoughtful silence, sounding a little guilty. “I’m moving to Connecticut next week.”

 

 

“Don’t laugh when my dick is in your mouth, Soonyoung,” Seokmin moans, pushing a pillow into his face to muffle his own laughter. Soonyoung lifts his head from between Seokmin’s legs. His dick twitches in relief. 

“Sorry, but.” Soonyoung presses his face against Seokmin’s stomach, blowing a raspberry there in lieu of laughing and further provoking Seokmin’s (admittedly, weak-willed) ire. “What a terrible first time story, I’d be put off sex forever.”

Really, it’s a miracle that all these hook-ups with Soonyoung haven’t put Seokmin off sex forever. But, he supposes the greater miracle— or curse, really— is that he’s still having sex with Soonyoung at all. “Then why’d you ask me to tell it to you while you were—” Seokmin waves a hand “—Stumbling around down there?”

“I don’t know.” Soonyoung pouts. He crawls back up the bed, his half-assed work on Seokmin’s erection all but forgotten. It’s better this way, probably. Soonyoung plants himself flat against Seokmin’s body, arms folded across Seokmin’s chest. “Thought I could make something good of it. Like, real dirty talk, all _’I’ll treat you right, do what he couldn’t do’_.” Soonyoung growls at the end, just to make it more ridiculous.

“Nooooo, Jaehyun was great,” Seokmin insists. Jaehyun really was. Took his time with him, was fun and easy and hot. “Just. Wish he’d stuck around.”

“Well, I’ll still be here next week, and the week after, and the week after that too.” Soonyoung kisses Seokmin on the lips, a light peck, and then pitches his voice lower to sound like those late night radio hosts. “Ain’t that sexy?”

He waggles his eyebrows. Seokmin waggles his back. They end up in a eyebrow waggling competition that turns into making ugly faces at each other and ends with the two of them laughing into each other’s skin, and it’s the sexiest thing Seokmin’s ever been a part of. 

 

 

With one simple demand, Jihoon manages to evaporate Seokmin’s only oasis in this high school.

“Hey, Seokmin,” he says, stopping him in the middle of his vocal warm ups. “Can you go run through some lines with the new kid?”

Technically, Wonwoo hasn’t been the new kid for a year and a half. But in a town where Seokmin’s mother had gone to birthing classes with the parents of at least half his grade, some labels just stick. Wonwoo’s the new kid in other ways too. He’s the newest writer for the school newspaper. He’s Soonyoung’s new best friend. And, after Jaehyun had moved to Connecticut and sent this year’s school production of “Grease” to a grinding halt, he was the new Kenickie to Seokmin’s Danny Zuko. 

“Shouldn’t Minkyung go through it with him?” Seokmin asks, pleads, begs, clutching his sheet music like a lifeline. “She’s Rizzo.”

“I don’t need Rizzo, I need someone to help him get through Grease Lightnin’ without his voice cracking.”

Wonwoo’s sitting by the unpainted props near the back of the stage, posture relaxed as he flips through the script. Seokmin hesitates as he approaches him. Somehow, even with Mingyu spending the entirety of last term shit-talking the dude’s cross-stitch, Seokmin finds Wonwoo Jeon the most intimidating guy in the whole school. Aside from the fact Wonwoo walks around wearing earphones not plugged into anything, Seokmin’s own insecurity tends to get the best of him. Him and Wonwoo are just _so different_. 

“Hey!” Seokmin greets, smiling and moving a cardboard car door to the floor so he can steal its chair. “I love Grease Lightnin’! That’s my favourite number.”

“Hey Seokmin. Sorry you got stuck looking after me.” Wonwoo smiles. It’s unexpectedly friendly. Suddenly, Seokmin is struck by the fact that despite zero degrees of separation between them, this is the first time he and Wonwoo have talked face-to-face since last year. “Interesting, always pegged you as a ’Summer Nights’ kind of guy.”

“I lied, that is my favourite,” Seokmin admits, embarrassed. “But Minghao told me that’s so predictable and I need more nuance.” 

“What kind of advice...” Wonwoo mutters, unimpressed. “The only nuance you need is to be yourself.”

“Oh.” Seokmin stares at him, but Wonwoo’s back to reading the script like he hadn’t just shattered Seokmin’s entire worldview. “I don’t think it was advice, just… joking around. But thank you.”

They do two run-throughs so Seokmin can get a feel for where Wonwoo’s delivery falters, when Wonwoo speaks again. 

“So apparently Jaehyun was kind of a dick, right?” he says, apropos of nothing.

“Jaehyun?” Seokmin questions, confused. “No, he was really nice. Great guy. I mean, it was a bit of an inconvenience, true, but he wasn’t a dick.”

“Really?” Wonwoo’s smile is crooked, studying Seokmin. “Soonyoung told me he treated you like shit or something.”

“He did?” Seokmin licks his lip. _’Soonyoung talks about me?’_. It sounds trite even in his own head. It’s just, Seokmin remembers the first time he’d met Wonwoo, after the opening show of last year’s musical, “West Side Story”. Soonyoung had lost his car keys and Seokmin had run into him backstage. It must have been the high of the performance that created a soft vignette around the moment, built an unwarranted sense of anticipation within Seokmin, one that had the rug pulled out from underneath it after Soonyoung gestured to the friend standing beside him and said, _“Wonwoo, this is Seokmin. My-my sister used to babysit him.”_

_’She used to babysit both of us, and we made her marry us when we were seven’,_ Seokmin wanted to say. Instead he’d cried in the boys bathroom until the janitor had found him. 

“He’s uh, gotten something mixed up.” Seokmin’s head feels light. “Jaehyun was really nice to me.” 

Wonwoo hums ambiguously. “I guess so. Hey, are you free Friday night?”

“Um, I think?”

“Cool, my birthday party is then. You should come.”

“ _Me?!_ ” Seokmin exclaims, pointing to himself. He has to hold onto the back of his chair. “As in… Me? You want me there? At a party?”

Wonwoo laughs. “Yes, you. It starts at six thirty. I’ll invite you to the Facebook event.” He takes out his phone. “It’s just a small thing, but Junhui’s in charge of shit, so expect it to get out of hand at around ten anyway.”

Seokmin’s been to parties before. He’s higher on the school’s food chain than he deserves to be thanks to riding on Mingyu’s coattails, so he gets dragged to all the big ones and too many people have videos of Seokmin dancing drunk. But right now he feels like he’s never seen a red solo cup in his life. “Should I, uh, bring anything? Like.. is there going to be catering, or?”

“You don’t even have to bring me a gift,” Wonwoo says, patting Seokmin on the shoulder. “Just bring yourself.” 

 

 

Seokmin gets Wonwoo a gift anyway. He drives down to Barnes and Nobles Friday after school and buys ‘The Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe’, for no reason apart from the fact it looks like the kind of thing Wonwoo might enjoy. He recognises Wonwoo’s house from Google Maps. Seokmin’s old friend from middle school, Shannon, used to live there until her dad’s job relocated her entire family to England. There used to be a giant oak tree with a ladder hung on the trunk on her front lawn. Now, when Seokmin pulls up to the curb at six thirty, there’s nothing except a stump and Soonyoung’s navy blue 2002 Corolla parked in the driveway. 

Somewhere between Seokmin registering the relatively small invite list, and the shittily wrapped present on his lap, the cold feet had kicked in. His chest tightens, and there’s no Jeonghan to link arms with him and stay by Seokmin’s side the entire night. There’s no Mingyu to grab Seokmin by the collar and coerce him into playing spin the bottle. There’s no Minghao with a shoulder for Seokmin to rest his head on when his energy is depleted. There’s only Wonwoo. Soonyoung. Wonwoo and Soonyoung’s friends. And Seokmin.

He does a hasty three-point turn that almost knocks over someone’s rubbish bin, and doesn’t meet any red lights on his way to Mingyu’s house. 

 

 

Mingyu throws a Wii controller at Seokmin as soon as he's through the front door. It's tempting, but as a form of self-punishment, Seokmin turns this down in favour sitting on the floor of Mingyu's bedroom and banging his head against a chemistry textbook. He supposes it would have been an inevitability, because Mingyu almost has an aneurysm upon finding out that he’d offered to play Mario Kart with someone who’d even _considered_ going to Wonwoo’s birthday party. 

“So you’re a Satanist now, Seokmin? Celebrating the birth of the devil?” Mingyu accuses, glaring at Seokmin’s notebook and ferociously drawing a big X through his working out. “How do you not know how to balance chemical equations when you’re doing accelerated biology?”

“Biology is easy, you just have to memorise shit,” Seokmin says, chewing the tip of his pen and looking back through the steps he’d messed up. Although, he hasn’t been doing so hot in Biology either this year, what with Soonyoung’s nape distracting him from looking at the board. Right after this thought, as if it’s in on some kind of cosmic joke, Seokmin’s phone lights up with a notification. 

**19:57 soonyoung**  
_> hey r u running late?_  
_> i'm jw cos wonu mentioned u were coming or smth_

Seokmin bites his tongue and turns his phone face down. “Hey,” he says. “Do you think Soonyoung told Wonwoo that me and him are… hooking up?”

“I don’t know.” Mingyu shrugs, not looking up from his homework. “I wouldn’t tell him. I wouldn’t trust Wonwoo as far as I could throw him. _’Be yourself’_ , what a snake. He _laughed_ at my Naruto themed cupcakes, you know? Even though they got us an A and Wonwoo doesn’t even know how to crack a fucking egg.” He throws his pen down, and stretches his arms above his head. “Done! Hey, I’m gonna go feed Hailstorm. Be back in a sec.”

Seokmin freezes, fear seizing his muscles. “Alright, but make sure she doesn’t come anywhere near me.”

Mingyu laughs derisively, pushing Seokmin’s head down as he walks past. “She’s a poodle. Grow a pair, Seokmin.”

 

 

By the time Seokmin returns home from Mingyu’s, it’s late enough that he’s worried about not having texted his mother a forewarning. It’s when he toes his shoes off and walks into the living room that he realises there are greater things in this world to be worrying about. And those things are currently sitting on Seokmin’s couch, laughing with his mum like they’re old friends. 

Seokmin must make some sort of sound, because both Soonyoung and his mum turn around to find him standing dumbstruck. “Oh, Seokminnie!” his mother says. “Soonyoung came to see you and—what time is it?”

“Almost ten,” Soonyoung provides when Seokmin’s wide open but useless mouth fails him.

His mother creases her forehead. “I’m sorry, Soonyoung, I kept you here for so long. It just feels like I haven’t seen you in years.” She hasn’t, though recently this has been Seokmin’s fault, because he makes sure his mother is at work whenever he brings Soonyoung over to do unsavoury things on his bed. Luckily, this doesn’t show on Soonyoung’s face. “I’ll leave you two to talk. Soonyoung, don’t forget to give that to your mother.”

“Thanks, eomma,” Soonyoung says. In his hands, Seokmin notices a plastic box full of kimbap. 

Seokmin moves to take the vacated seat beside Soonyoung on the sofa. “Hey, dude,” he says, trying to sound more confident than he feels. “What brings you to mi casa?” Soonyoung’s dressed nicely. Leather jacket over a blue plaid shirt, black jeans that are free of the worn and tear literally every other garment in Soonyoung’s wardrobe is marked with. 

“Ah, you weren’t at Wonwoo’s party so I just dropped by to make sure you were okay.” Soonyoung ruffles the hair at the back of his head. “But your mum told me you were at Mingyu’s.”

“Sorry, I was going to come, but um…” Seokmin wipes his hands down his pants, scouring the four brain cells he has for a believable lie. “Mingyu. He doesn’t really like Wonwoo. I just felt, a bit, weird about it. I mean, he wouldn’t have been _that_ mad at me, but I’d feel bad.” 

Soonyoung’s face is serious—not angry, but understanding. Guilt curls itself around Seokmin’s throat. “Right, I totally get it.” He turns his gaze towards the coffee table, where there’s a myriad of old photos spread out over the hardwood. He picks one up, a picture of Soonyoung and Seokmin during their elementary school’s Plant a Tree Day, arms around each other and dirt smeared over their faces. Soonyoung’s smushing his cheek into Seokmin’s face, unconcerned about the fact that half of Seokmin’s smile back then was made up of large gaps between his teeth. “Your mum really documents everything, huh?”

She does. Seokmin inherited his sappy sentimentality from her. “You have no idea. Remember how she got my baby teeth made into a necklace?” 

“Oh my god, that was amaaaaaazing,” Soonyoung trills. “Does she still have your baby clothes framed in her room?”

“Of course.” Seokmin pushes around the photos in front of them, before one catches his eye. “This one’s nice,” he says. It’s one of the more recent ones. The day of Soonyoung’s middle school graduation, a photo of Seokmin with Soonyoung and Soonyoung’s older sister at a booth in Popeyes. He’d dressed up that day, and the photo is nice and warm coloured. Even though it was taken at night, you’d think there was a sunset outside. 

Soonyoung smirks. “I like this one,” he says, picking out another picture from the same day. Seokmin’s entire body burns. It’s of Soonyoung wearing his graduation cap, Seokmin hugging him tightly, face a splotchy red with tear stains as he forces a watery smile at the camera. 

“Dear God,” Seokmin voices, rubbing his hands over his face.

Soonyoung chuckles, and leans back so the couch shifts with his weight. “Man, you’ve changed so much.”

“Yeah, you have,” Seokmin agrees, still covering his face but nodding. “Wait, what?”

“Excuse me, Grandpa?” Soonyoung says, recalling one of their skits they used to perform to no one’s amusement but their own. He puts on his grandma voice. “I haven’t changed at all, I’m still as young as the day you married me.” He waves a fist in the air; it’s supposed to carry his imaginary cane. 

Seokmin’s very real heart is stomped into the ground by that imaginary cane. “Eyyy, Grandma,” he says, slipping into the role and cupping Soonyoung’s cheeks. “How can I look at anyone else? Not when you paid so much for those botox shots.”

Soonyoung laughs. An old woman’s laugh that’s very in character. What’s not in character is how he moves forward to kiss Seokmin, fingers wrapping themselves around Seokmin’s wrist, pressing into the pulse. Seokmin’s still holding onto Soonyoung’s face, but he moves his hands to support the back of Soonyoung’s neck, like he’s cradling something precious. 

“Really, though,” Soonyoung says, when he moves back. “I haven’t changed at all. You’ve changed so much.”

Seokmin clears his throat. He’s never exaggerated to anyone—he loves the kissing. “That is not true. You’ve got it mixed up.”

“It’s truer than your birth certificate, Seokmin,” Soonyoung retorts. “You used to be like… sloppy, kind of a mess. In a good way. Now you’re…” Soonyoung trails off as his eyes move up and down Seokmin’s body. “Different.”

Seokmin wants to demand an elaboration, but he realises that if someone had asked him how Soonyoung had changed, he wouldn’t be able to provide much of an answer either. Soonyoung just had. “Is that why you stopped talking to me when you started high school?” Seokmin blurts out. 

Fuck. He’s not looking for confrontation, he just wants to know. It’s been eating him up inside. Soonyoung flinches. 

“I didn’t stop talking to you,” Soonyoung says. “I just… didn’t know how to talk to you. Our lives became so different.”

Seokmin nods. “Yeah,” he says. “I get it.” He doesn’t.

“I should get going,” Soonyoung says after a bout of silence. “I bet Junhui’s gotten bored by now and sent out the mass text invite, Wonwoo’s going to freak out.”

Seokmin walks Soonyoung to the door. “Bye,” he says. He feels oddly weighed down. Tears prick the back of his eyes, and he bites his bottom lip to keep them at bay. “Sorry you had to come all this way.”

“Nah, don’t even sweat it,” Soonyoung says, waving a hand. He reaches into his pocket and procures a photo, the one of Seokmin sobbing over Soonyoung like a toddler. “I kept a souvenir,” he says, winking.

It snaps Seokmin out of his mood enough for him to whine. “Nooooooooo,” he says. “My mum’s gonna notice it’s gone.”

“I’ll tell her it’s at my house so you can’t burn it,” Soonyoung teases. “Bye, Seoku, take care, yeah?”

 

 

On Monday, an asteroid the size of the sun collides into the Earth.

Not really, but it’s the most surreal thing to ever happen to Seokmin, even topping Soonyoung turning to him during the first biology class of the term and whispering—like it was a conspiracy and the past three years of suffocating radio silence never happened— _”Seokmin, wanna be my assignment partner?”_

Or, maybe not as surreal, but it definitely carries a larger potential for destruction. 

Wonwoo Jeon approaches their table during lunch and grits out, “Mingyu, I’m sorry.”

Seokmin, Minghao, and Mingyu all share a look, as if affirming that none of them had grown an extra head. “Um, sorry?” Seokmin asks, because Mingyu is gripping his knife like he’s ready for warfare. 

The brown lunch bag in Wonwoo’s hands almost rips from how tightly he’s holding it. “I said, Mingyu, I’m sorry for being a shitty partner last term.”

“Bomb…” Mingyu whispers. Then louder, “Bomb! He has a fart bomb in that bag!”

“What? No!” Wonwoo sneers, wrinkling his nose. “It’s just my lunch. And fart bomb? What are you, twelve? Wait, I’m sorry. I’m genuinely sorry. I know your GPA took a hit, but you’re really smart so you’ll pull it up, even though it’s unfair you should have to. I tend to treat successful, popular people with less respect, because I have a limited supply of that and other people need it more.”

“Other people like… girl scouts?” Seokmin squints, trying to relate.

“Precisely girl scouts, Seokmin,” Wonwoo says. “Anyway,” He jabs his thumb behind him. “I’m off. Enjoy your lunch.”

Wonwoo walks back to his own table where Soonyoung’s looking towards him with a pinched expression. He grabs Wonwoo’s hand and says something in a rush, knee bouncing up and down. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong…” Mingyu starts. “But isn’t he meant to wait for me to forgive him?”

“Who cares,” Minghao says, gazing at Wonwoo like he wants to catcall him. “That dude’s awesome, no wonder Junhui wants to bang him six ways to Sunday.”

Mingyu gags. “I can’t believe for once Seokmin hasn’t said the grossest thing at this table.”

“Seokmin cosigns me,” Minghao says, “Right, Seokmin?”

“Um, no. Seokmin isn’t a devil worshipper.”

Unfortunately, Seokmin realises with a sinking feeling in his gut, right now there’s only one boy in this world he wants to bang, and that boy isn’t very good at it. And that boy is going to break his heart. “I think I’m finally going to end it,” he says, watching Soonyoung throw his head back, laughing at one of Junhui’s jokes. 

Minghao and Mingyu don’t hear him, too engrossed in a heated debate over Wonwoo’s ass (or lack thereof, is Mingyu’s argument. He’s pretty sure Minghao’s only being contrary to piss Mingyu off). But, as if he has a sixth sense for Seokmin’s inner turmoils, Soonyoung looks over from his table, and when he makes eye contact with Seokmin, offers him the softest of smiles. 

 

 

It’s typical that right after Seokmin finally finds the resolve to end this thing once and for all, Soonyoung, in some deus ex machina power-up bullshit you’d only ever find in a shonen manga, gives Seokmin the best suck of his life.

Seokmin comes and then starts crying immediately after.

(He also wonders if there’s a hentai out there that’s like, sports anime where the sport is dick sucking. He also wonders if Soonyoung would watch it with him. Then, upon thinking of Soonyoung’s name, he starts crying harder.)

“Seokmin?!” Soonyoung yells in alarm. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and crawls up the bed. “Seokmin, what’s wrong? I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No,” Seokmin says, his voice coming out thick. The last few shaky breaths rattle his ribcage, and he sniffs. “I’m fine,” he promises, staring determinedly up at the ceiling when Soonyoung rolls over onto the pillow next to him. If Seokmin’s going to do this, he can’t look at him. His heart is isn’t made to be hard. It’s soft, malleable, like play-doh. Or slime. 

“Was it good?” Soonyoung asks, and it’s not like the other times. There’s genuine insecurity there, and forgetting the pact he’d made just a second ago, Seokmin lies down on his side to let his eyes roam over Soonyoung. 

“It was seriously good,” Seokmin says. “You blew my fucking mind, I don’t think I have any sperm left.”

“Yeah?” Soonyoung props himself up on an elbow, smiling down at Seokmin and squeezing his slimy heart. “I’ve been practicing.”

The words, said with the endearing pride of a child, send a wrecking ball of ice into Seokmin’s stomach. “Oh?” he says, voice cracking. “On who?”

“Wha—? N-no one,” Soonyoung splutters. “I’ve been watching porn and shit, and practicing on carrots and bananas, and. You’re my first guy, you know? I didn’t really know what I was doing half the time, but I wanted to make it good for you. But, um.” He looks down, sucking his cheeks in. “Wait, have you been doing it with other peo—Seokmin, are you crying again?”

“No.” Seokmin swipes at his face. His hand comes away wet. “Yes,” he amends. “It’s the, it’s the oxytocin. That’s the love hormone, right?”

Soonyoung frowns, wiping Seokmin’s cheekbone with his thumb. “I don’t know, I’m so fucking bad at chemistry.”

“It’s biology, I think,” Seokmin says.

“I’m bad at biology too,” Soonyoung says. “You know that. Seoku, why are you crying?”

God if Seokmin knows. He’s crying because Soonyoung went and memorised the entire Kamasutra so Seokmin could enjoy himself. He’s crying because he’ll never get to watch gross porn with Soonyoung. Seokmin presses the heels of his palms into his eyes. He’s a mess, a broken sprinkler that spurts out scalding hot water and hits people on the sidewalk with it. “I like you so much,” he groans, turning his back to Soonyoung. “I like you so much that I can’t do this with you anymore. I thought I could because I wanted you to be my friend again so badly.”

“I…” Soonyoung frowns. “Seokmin, why is this a problem?”

Seokmin buries his head into the pillow. “Because I don’t want you to just want me around to have sex with. I-I want to be more than your friend,” he confesses. “And now you’re so good at sex anyone will want to date you and then you won’t be my friend anymore or my more than friend, and it’ll really fucking suck. It’ll feel like ninth grade all over again, except a million times worse. I like you so much I think I’m in love with you.”

Before Seokmin can go fall off to the bed and into the pits of hell, Soonyoung’s limbs are wrapping themselves around him. His soft skin makes Seokmin want to melt into his touch, but he remains stiff. “Seokmin,” Soonyoung says, chest pushing into Seokmin’s shoulder. “Hey, look at me.”

“I want to die,” Seokmin replies.

“Think you can beat me?” Soonyoung says. “I’ve liked you since I was fifteen.”

Seokmin blinks. “Huh?” he says. He looks up at Soonyoung, who’s grinning like Seokmin had given him the best birthday present. “That’s… ninth grade. No you didn’t.”

“I did,” Soonyoung nods. He pushes Seokmin’s hair away from his forehead. “I freaked out. We didn’t talk much that summer because you had music camp, and then when you started high school suddenly you were best buds with Mingyu Kim and Minghao, and you had upperclassmen like Jeonghan on you like a watchdog. Which, I still don’t think he liked me, by the way. But I panicked and thought if I avoided you it’d go away.”

Soonyoung’s intuition had been correct—Jeonghan hadn’t liked him. _”I’ve thought he was annoying since middle school, so don’t feel bad,”_ Jeonghan had said, after Seokmin attempted to defend Soonyoung’s integrity, firm in his belief that he was a really good person. The best person, in fact. But clearly, also the worst person. 

“You suck,” Seokmin says, kicking Soonyoung off him. He lands on his back with an ‘oof’. “You really hurt my feelings.”

Soonyoung doesn’t make any move to latch back onto Seokmin, which disappoints him a little. “I do suck.” He sighs, folding his hands above his bellybutton. “Wonwoo told me I really fucking sucked. And every time he’d push me to do something I’d make it worse. _’I told you to ask him out on a date, not have sex on your final grade’_ ,” Soonyoung imitates, face souring at the memory. 

Seokmin should be angrier than he is. Because of Soonyoung, Seokmin went three years with a good chunk of his heart hollowed out. He could spend three years starting now pretending like Soonyoung doesn’t exist, and he doesn’t think anyone would blame him. 

But, Seokmin believes in compensation, not retribution. One hug, for every moment that Soonyoung avoided his eyes in the hallway. One date, for every text Soonyoung had left on read. And for every single day of these past three years that Seokmin had to spend without Soonyoung by his side, Seokmin wants—

“A kiss,” Seokmin says. He wraps an arm around Soonyoung’s waist, pulling him close. “Kiss me and I’ll forgive you.”

Soonyoung turns around to face him, eyebrows rising in surprise. His expression softens. “You’re too nice for your own good,” he says, running his fingers through Seokmin’s hair.

“Everyone keeps saying that,” Seokmin mumbles, staring at Soonyoung’s mouth. 

“Everyone’s right,” Soonyoung says. A beat, then, “Hey, can I blow you again?”

Seokmin almost chokes on his own spit. This must be what Mingyu and Minghao are subjected to on a regular basis; he’s never been more sympathetic to their plight. “My refractory period isn’t that fast, give me time,” Seokmin mutters, pinching the skin of Soonyoung’s arm, eliciting a squeak. “Kiss me first, you animal.”

And Soonyoung does just that. 

 

 

 **00:18 seokmin**  
seokmin shared a link [PORNHUB: NARUTO CHUUNIN EXAM NARUTO FUCKS SASUKE IN THE ASS]  
_> babe oh my god look at this_  
_> shit wrong contact_

 **00:19 mingyu**  
_> i just_

 **00:19 seokmin**  
_> I'M SORRY I CLICKED THE WRONG CHAT_  
_> IT WAS AN ACCIDENT D:_

 **00:19 mingyu**  
_> idgi_  
_> i'm a good person_  
_> i did the fun run last year_

 **00:19 seokmin**  
_> MINGYU I'M SORRYYYYYY_

 **00:19 mingyu**  
_> did i burn down an orphanage in my past life_  
_> why am i being punished?_

 **00:20 seokmin**  
_> MINGYU NO ):_

**[you've been blocked from sending mingyu messages]**

**Author's Note:**

> i was originally going to write a completely different fic with a completely different pairing, but unfortunately that fic got too out of hand, so i went back to the drawing board with this one u_u there are so many other things i wanted to include which i didn't get the chance to, but nonetheless i love this pairing (I LOVE SEOKMIN) and had a blast writing for you ❤


End file.
